


The Alliance of Mirkwood

by Dream_Team



Series: The Alliance of Mirkwood [1]
Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, During The Hobbit, Gen, Tolkien Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:07:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 16,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2802302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Team/pseuds/Dream_Team
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A meeting takes place in Rivendell a while after the Battle of the Five Armies, in order to deal with the spreading corruption. This is the story of what happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Serene Stroll, Bilbo 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's written a little differently than other stories in that this is a collaboration for a school project. Every character has a different author, so all the Bilbo chapters were written by a single author, as were the Elrond chapters, as were the Gandalf chapters etc. If you don't like an author's style, you might want to read on to see if you like the others. However, they were plotted collaboratively. We also do our best to introduce all the characters and styles in the first six chapters. It has a bunch of lore references, but we try to do it well, so that it adds to, rather than detracts from, the experience for both knowledgeable and new readers alike. It's also our first time using this site, so the formatting might be a little shaky. 
> 
> Please do comment, because it's always fun to see what people think! We had a bunch of fun writing it, and if just the tiniest sliver of that fun can be transferred to you, then we couldn't be happier!

s the light glimpsed between the rooftops Bilbo thought that Rivendell truly was a remarkable place. If one thought Rivendell was beautiful in moonlight colours, one would really appreciate it during the daylight. Bilbo walked across Rivendell, admiring its beauty. He thought to himself how lucky he was to be one of those who would ever see Rivendell, almost as he felt bad for those who would not. As Bilbo strolled along the river, just beside the house where he and Gandalf lived during their stay, he thought of his magnificent adventure. So many memories both sad and happy. He could not believe that he at first rejected the idea of helping the dwarves getting their home back. Bilbo was proud of being able to help others in need. He, Bilbo Baggins the hobbit, had made a contribution to the world; would anyone ever believe that? Continuing on his stroll in Rivendell, Bilbo had the opportunity to once again accompany the elves. The elves were kind and most beautiful creatures, not to mention their enchanting songs. Bilbo asked if they could sing a song to him on this beautiful morning. Even though he didn’t understand what they were singing, their tone and their voices filled Bilbo with both happiness and sadness, and he did not know why. Afterwards he asked the elves what the song was about, and the elves had answered that the song was in honour of those who did not make it in the battle. The song was in every sense a magnificent song, as were the other songs that Bilbo had heard during his stay. He had never heard anything as beautiful as them. There was this one song that reminded Bilbo of his home. He could see himself sitting in his little house in front of the fire, sipping on a cup of tea and eating seed-cake. Bilbo smiled; he somehow knew that soon he would be coming home to Shire and his beloved hobbit-hole.


	2. Morning Meditation with Mithrandir, Elrond 1

lrond walked slowly through the gardens of Rivendell, each step filled with grace and care for the ground he walked on. He peered around for others, but there were none to be found. The sun had not yet grazed the sky this morning, and the dew still laid wet on the grass. Elrond smiled as he felt the cold touch of nature against his bare feet. The time swept by as he walked towards the edge of Rivendell, seeking to grasp the first beams of light that soon would show up in the far away horizon. The first rays of sunlight gently caressed him and filled him with hope for the day that was arriving.

Thoughts of the coming day filled his mind and made him ponder. There were a lot of things that needed to be settled. However, he knew that because of the recent events that had happened, light and prosperity would be on their side. In the corner of his eye he suddenly saw the shape of an older man clad in gray.

“Mithrandir, how can I help you at this early hour?” Elrond gave out a hearty smile and turned to face the wizard; he was met with a grave look.

“Lord Elrond, we have to talk about the situation we are in. Smaug has fallen and we have won the day. Now we need a plan to secure balance, both in the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood as in Dol Guldur.” Gandalf’s voice was firm but had a gentle tone. Elrond knew that the wizard did not take him for a fool, just uninformed.

“Two fortnights ago, I called out to the leaders of all the races that surround Mirkwood and the Lonely Mountain. They should be arriving later this day. We will have a summit and create a plan.” Elrond’s voice sounded ever so graceful, and there was no tone of either arrogance nor pride. It simply sounded like he did what was necessary and expected of him. Gandalf nodded and bowed lightly.

“I should never doubt the line of the Noldor. The wise one today is you, Lord Elrond.” Gandalf smiled and took up his pipe. With a caressing touch he lit it, let out a warm chuckle and walked away. The elven lord followed the merry fellow with a contented look. The new day might bring some surprises; it always did when there were visitors about. 

 


	3. Woes of a Wise Wizard, Gandalf 1

he gaiety Elrond had noticed within Gandalf was not entirely unfounded. Even though he very much enjoyed having an air of unpredictability around him, and even though he could sense the growing darkness on the horizon, he had much to rejoice over. Smaug the Golden had been defeated by the unlikeliest of heroes, and even Sauron (or Mairon, as Gandalf preferred to think of him, for he was still Maiar) had been driven from near the heart of middle-earth to the ever-lasting shadows of mordor. Even if the escape of Mairon couldn’t be prevented, the slaying of the last Great Worm was no small feat, and more so cause for celebration. Therefore, as he often did, he tried to purge these dark thoughts of failure from his mind, and continued on his path. He did, after all, have a very important breakfast appointment to keep. However, as he wandered through the green hills, still heavy with dew from a night long since past, and as he watched the white towers of Rivendell grow larger and larger with each step he took, he could not help to debate within himself. For Gandalf, the promise of peace, however long or short it may be, was never enough. There was always a fire within him, thinking that one should never - could never - recline until the darkness had been completely vanquished from the surface of Arda. It was due to this fire - this debate - that he had been known for his somewhat capricious nature; he was as quick to anger as he was quick to laugh. He had now reached the center of Rivendell, and he stole a quick glance at the surrounding area. The view was incredible.

He saw the sapphire rivers and the emerald hills; he saw the ivory buildings with hazel roofs and the radiant glory of morning sun. Somewhere, he could even hear the sound of laughter. The beauty was astounding. And for but a moment, the fire ceased. He was transported to a distant age, one with less despair and misery. He was taken back to Valinor; to the city of bells with the golden roofs and silver floors; to the stones bound with magic and the bronze doors, which would open with naught a touch. And he was taken to her. Nienna, who had lived far away from the city of Valimar, but had taught him so very much. The Lady of Sorrow and Grief. It was through her he had learned the importance of sorrow and contemplation, but also the importance of courage and laughter. For how could one beat the darkness except through utter refusal of it? Laughter was its antithesis: the act of letting even the slightest glimmer of hope and good bubble through your heart and mind, so much that your body couldn’t dare to refrain from acknowledging it. Mithrandir, Elrond had called him, and that very name was a testament to the good it could do. He had earned it in Valinor, through stories of bravery and humor, which had driven despair from hearts and terror from minds. Gandalf had received many names during his existence: Olórin from the Maiar, Tharkûn from the sturdy dwarves, and Incánus from his long travels through Middle-Earth; but it was of Mithrandir he was the most fond, although he would never admit it. It was from elves and men whom he had given wisdom and joy, for it was only used affectionately.

Within an instant he was back in Rivendell, on his merry way again. He did hope that he hadn’t spent too much time daydreaming, with a spring in his step unseen before. “Now, let us see if that hobbit can make me laugh once more”, he thought as he arrived at the his house in Rivendell, awaiting his little guest.


	4. Daunted but Determined Dwarves, Bard 1

ard looked upon his company with a grim face. They had all been summoned to Rivendell shortly after the Battle of Five Armies and he had together with the dwarves Dain and Balin set off towards Mirkwood. He would rather have stayed to start the rebuilding of Dale, after all, he had the resources needed after Bilbo had granted him his share of the treasure, but there is more to building a city than money. Being situated close to Mirkwood, Dale would always be in constant danger of the darkness which resided there and something had to be done before it started to spread out. Bard dreaded the walk through the forest, but what he dreaded more was having to convince Beorn to come to the meeting. Beorn was a great man and his unwillingness to leave his house filled Bard with trepidation. He thought that persuading Beorn to come would be the bigger challenge, and doubted a peaceful outcome.

Together with the dwarves Bard made off early in the morning, his face set in a permanent scowl. Balin and Dain were more nervous than Bard because, as we all remember, they had had quite a number of incidents in the dark forest, but this time they were kept from straying from the path by Bard’s stern voice. They had made it through most of the forest when they started to catch glimpses of Thranduil, the Elvenking, through the trees. At first they thought that they had mistaken, but while anyone can mistake the elves from white fog when they move on their light feet, there could be no mistaking the songs that could sometimes be heard echoing through the woods; it was clear that they were not the only ones on the move towards Rivendell. While the Elves never stopped to have a chat, a bit rude according to Balin, their presence was enough to keep the evil creatures of the forest away from the small company.

Thanks to the ever present elves and Bard’s harsh rationing of the food – with many and loud complaints from the dwarves, they made it through Mirkwood without any bigger misshaps than growling stomachs. Naturally Bard’s butter commands and stern face kept them all on time and within a matter of weeks they arrived at Beorn’s house.


	5. Freaky Forest, Fearful Fauna and Friendship, Beorn 1

eorn scratched his immense beard and relaxed by the crackling fire with his pipe. He practiced blowing an intricate smoke ring to see if he could imitate those of his former guests. A few weeks had passed since he had bid farewell to the wizard and the hobbit; yet life had not returned to how it was before the visit of the strange company of dwarves, what felt like an eternity ago. The events of the past year weighed on him and had made him more prone to ponder. The forest was restless and the eight-legged spawn of Ungoliant was still not under control. They weaved their webs closer and closer every night, threatening to capture his servants and frightening his beautiful horses. Something would have to be done about that, and soon. But he was just one man. Sure, he was Beorn the Mighty, father of the Beornings that would later care for this patch of the world, but he knew his limits. Keeping the forces of darkness at bay requires the efforts of more than one man.

It is no use thinking about these things alone in a big, empty house. Empty despite his trusty animal servants, I should add, as they were of no use discussing advanced strategies with. Beorn got up from the simple but unbelievably comfortable armchair and put out his pipe. It was time to get out into the woods for the night’s watch. But just as he went out the back door, the one facing the Mirkwood and his enormous porch, he heard the noise of travellers approaching. Had he not just got rid of his last visitors? For some reason his guests just stayed and stayed and he knew better than to run them off, even if he sometimes wished to. Then he just went into the forest for a day or two and came back hoping they were gone. He was a man who valued his time alone and so it was a rather irritated skin-changer that went to greet the new visitors.


	6. Enigmatic Elves, Thranduil 1

s the night sky slowly began to give way for the light of day, the shadows of the Elvenking and his escort drifted nimbly towards the outer gate. The Elvenking Thranduil himself had given the order on the moon before last, after Gandalf and the little halfling, to whom the King had bestowed the title of Eldandil or elf-friend in the common tongue, had departed. Thranduil had anticipated such a gathering long before Elrond's summoning, as darkness had once again begun to stir in Middle-earth. It was of utmost importance to take precautions. He was especially solicitous to hear the news from the outcome of the recent White Council of the wizards, and its efforts against the gloom of Dol Guldur, the ancient fortress that stood upon Amon Lanc, the hill where his people had resided in the days of his father’s rule. Even now as they rode swiftly through the woods, one could sense the sickness in the air. The cobwebs, that had spread all the way to the borders of their outer grounds; the spawn of Ungoliant, so close to elven keeps. It was unthinkable. His thoughts were momentarily disrupted as they passed lights; it was only in a passing, but the King’s keen elven eyes had made out a party of humans and dwarves, most likely Bard and Dain also headed towards Imladris, as Rivendell was known to those that held knowledge of the high tongue of the Eldar. He was reminded of the horrid Battle that had taken place merely two fortnights ago. He had lost many a dear elf and knew only too well that no emerald nor gold could be equal to the life of one of his folk. It had not been possible to avoid, otherwise he would not forgive himself the decision that involvement in the dwarf business was necessary for the peace of the surrounding areas and the kind people of Esgaroth, who had pleaded for his aid. Despite his dislike of the dwarves and their doings, he felt sad of Thorin's death as well. It was a pity, but on the other hand Dain had shown the qualities of a great leader and would be a better king than Thorin, Thranduil thought. Stoic and wise leaders were going to be much needed in the approximate future, as ominous days were upon them all.


	7. Bilbo's Butterfull Breakfast, Bilbo 2

is thoughts were interrupted when he heard a growl. It was his stomach. Thinking of cake had made him hungry. Even though he didn’t want to leave the elves, he could not resist the will of his stomach and to be honest he already was quite late. He rushed back to meet Gandalf for breakfast, and when he got back the table was set with everything from different kinds of tea to different kinds of cake; an even bigger smile snuck up on Bilbo’s face. It had been a while since Bilbo had been able to enjoy breakfast, or any other meal for that matter. The last time he remembered a great meal like this was when the dwarves had been at his house, and that was not even that pleasurable to Bilbo, since he did not care for uninvited guests. He was annoyed thinking about that day, but then he smiled, missing his friends. He looked at the table with all the glorious food, not to mention how beautifully the table was set. A silky white tablecloth gently caressed the table, and white roses that were placed in silver vases. Bilbo picked up a plate and started to load on food, toast with all sorts of jam, a colourful fruit-plate with strawberries, apples and oranges. There was also a marvellous smoked ham that smelled so good Bilbo almost ate the whole thing. The best part on the table was a huge wonderful chocolate cake that made Bilbo drool. He was going to enjoy the breakfast for as long as he could, and that Gandalf, his dear old friend, would accompany him for breakfast only made it more pleasant.


	8. Punctual Professionals, Gandalf 2

ith his wooden pipe in hand and firmly planted in his chair, Gandalf eagerly awaited the little hobbit. The sun had risen to the midpoint of day, yet Gandalf was not surprised to see Mr. Baggins well after the agreed upon time.  Bilbo may have grown quite a lot (merely in spirit, naturally) during the course of his adventure, but some mannerisms remained intact. Gandalf smiled to himself. In a way, it was quite endearing. Bilbo barely managed to let out a quick “Good morning!” before he picked up a plate and set his sights on the feast laid out before him. Gandalf chuckled to himself as he watched the hobbit heave eggs and loaves and cakes, along with a few pies for good measure, upon his plate, until he finally seemed satisfied and took a seat across from Gandalf. “Meaning a fine morning to gorge yourself on, I suppose?”, inquired Gandalf.

“Quite!”, replied Bilbo with a mouth full of pie. “Especially when you have as fine of a selection as this available. Look at this! They even have seed-cakes! I haven’t eaten like this in ages.”

The grey wizard couldn’t help himself but let out a slight chuckle at the hobbit’s enthusiasm; then he leaned back, inhaled heavily from his pipe, and blew a few smoke figures into the air. This time he managed to conjure two small men. They danced briefly with each other before disappearing into the gentle spring breeze. Of all the pleasures on Middle-earth, this pipe was one of the finest, Gandalf thought to himself. But as for all good things, they must come to an end. Gandalf knew this all too well. For all the recent prosperous years he had lived through, for all the smoke figures and rings he blew on days just like these, there were still more unenjoyable matters which had to be taken care of. With audible effort he managed to raise himself from his position and grabbed his staff, which was leaning against the wall behind him. “You’re leaving already?”, Bilbo asked. “But you haven’t even touched the scones.”

“I’ve had plenty already, Mr. Baggins.”, Gandalf responded.

“Which you would have already known if you decided to respect the concept of punctuality. Then again, hobbits will remain hobbits, and I can hardly blame you for enjoying such a fine day as this. My duties, however, require the very epitome of punctuality, and this is all the enjoyment I have to spare. Do not worry, for we shall have much more time to spend together before we reach the Shire.”

Bilbo quickly left his seat, and went in front of Gandalf. The wizard towered over him, but Bilbo was not bothered. Instead, he confronted him with all the subtlety of a raging bull.   
“Why are you leaving then, if it’s such a splendid day? What can be so important that the great Gandalf can’t sit down and enjoy his own existence once in a while?” Gandalf saw the curiosity in Bilbo’s eyes. An opportunity had presented itself, and Gandalf was not one to waste it.

“A most important meeting, Mr. Baggins. A meeting so important that the very fate of the world depends on it. With kings and lords from across the world, here to discuss something so vital that one cannot afford to doze off as you are prone to do. Instead sit here and enjoy the day, without thinking of matters which do not concern you.”

“Fine.” Bilbo said, and grumpily got back into his seat. But merely moments after he had set upon the path towards Elrond, he could distinguish a small shadow following him in the bright sunlight. Gandalf couldn’t help but to once again smile to himself. Grave matters are for grave-minded people - he thought - but sometimes a new perspective cannot hurt.


	9. Grueling Guests, Elrond 2

he Valley of Imladris was glistening in the reflection of the sun. It was as the whole valley was blessed by the light of Laurelin, the golden tree of Valinor. The elven lord basked in sunlight as he walked towards the place of the summit. He would not let wretched or grave thoughts lower his spirit; the day deserved as much. Nonetheless, a feeling of impending darkness crept closer. Images of the past flashed by his eyes; he saw his beloved lady Celebrían, and his heart grew heavy in his chest.  After a couple of steps the emotion got too persistent, so he stopped and took a deep breath. He felt sweat trickle down his face. Elrond sighed; he was too connected to the evil of the past and the evil of the time to come. Once again he saw the figure of the gray pilgrim approaching him.    
A thought flickered through this head. Was this an echo of this morning? A smile crossed his face as the similar feeling of the morning warmed his heart and made him forget his moment of despair. He looked at the wizard who was a lot more jolly now than during their previous encounter. For a moment Elrond felt a presence move behind the wizard, but quickly discarded it as his imagination.

“Master Elrond, has something happened? You do not look well.” The wizard had a worried look upon his brow. His perception always impressed the elven lord. He shook his head and gave the wizard a light smile.

“No, Mithrandir, everything is fine. It was nothing but old wounds acting up.” said Elrond and took another deep breath.

“I have to ask you. Who did you invite to this meeting of peace?” Gandalf’s voice was kind and soothing. He took up his bag of Old Toby and inspected what was left of the tobacco.   
“I have invited the dwarves: Dain and Balin. Also the humans, the leader of the people in Dale, Bard, as well as Beorn the Skin-changer .” Elrond let the names sink in before he continued. “I also invited the lady Galadriel, his lordship Celeborn, and Thranduil of the Woodland Realm.” The last name he almost uttered in a mutter; it was known that he was not fond of the Elvenking. Elrond had always found Thranduil’s father Oropher an honorable man. He had built his kingdom from nothing and done it all for his people. A worthy man who died, sacrificing everything for his kind, at the hand of Sauron. However, his son had inherited his worst traits. He was full of pride and sat on too high a horse, earned by the achievements of his father, not his own. He saw himself as divine even though he did not not have the blood to back it up. Elrond always admired kindness and unselfishness, traits that he did not believe that the son of Oropher possessed.

Gandalf smiled at Elrond; he knew of the elf’s feeling towards his elven kin. Elrond looked at the wizard with a slight frustration when noticing his recognition.   
“Yes, and Cirdan’s emissaries. That is all I believe, I thought it was not a good idea to invite anyone else, only those that are affected by the recent events.” Elrond continued. They started to walk towards the meeting hall, but were interrupted by a gentle voice singing; it belonged to the elven prince Greenleaf.   
“Carry on, my friend. I need to have few words with the Elvenking.” Elrond turned and gracefully wandered towards the singing.


	10. Carpenting Canines and Dreaded Discussions, Bard 2

pon coming to Beorn’s house Bard rubbed his eyes twice. There were several marvellous ponies standing outside of the house, eating of the juicy and well-kept grass which grew there. Now you might think it strange that Bard was astonished by this, because though they were great creatures, they were, after all, only ponies. No, the reason for Bard’s astonishment was not the ponies, but the dogs. Were they really walking on two legs? No matter how much he shook his head and rubbed his eyes or tried to blame the dark night, there was no doubt. The dogs were standing on their hind legs and using their front paws repairing some skewed window shields. The dwarves seemed to find all this quite natural and none of them made a face when one of the dogs raised a paw to wave. Bard frowned and shook his head.

“Unnatural” he muttered.

  
No sooner had he uttered the words than the door to the cabin opened to reveal the great man that was Beorn – no doubt had the ruckus from the company warned him of their arrival. While it was quite clear that they were not an entirely happy surprise, Beorn graciously welcomed them into his home, offering hot beverages and food with a dark voice. Balin and Dain feeling almost starved to death immediately accepted, and while Bard was a more calm man he too was quite hungry, and so they sat down to eat with the dogs from earlier serving the food. They were given piles of scones with clotted cream and warm, liquid honey after which they kept gorging on roasted chestnuts and sweet apples together with all kinds of fruits of the land. After the hefty meal the dwarves went straight to bed and after only a few seconds there were loud snores heard throughout the cabin. Bard, although he was tired, sat down in an armchair opposite Beorn and they both enjoyed a pipe stuffed with the finest of tobacco, Longbottom leaf. They both said nothing for a long while, Bard staring into the fire and mentally preparing himself to bring up the subject of the summoning to Rivendell. He finally took a deep breath and asked whether Beorn had heard anything from Elrond lately.


	11. Aggravating but Accomodating Antagonist, Thranduil 2

o it was that on the eleventh day of the month which the fair folk call Lothron, which would fall on our first day of May, Thranduil and his following finally laid their eyes upon the strikingly beautiful valley of Imladris. It had been a long while since he passed through Elrond’s keep, even in the account of the endless days of the elvenkind. Seeing the narrow passage divided by the stream, that flowed in its slithering manner, reminded him of the circumstances during which he had last seen Imladris; it was after the terrible battle, after his father had perished…

 

They crossed the ford and entered the valley. His companions were singing a joyful tune, led by his young son Legolas, in which they praised the exquisite splendour of Imladris and the virtue of its inhabitants. He rejoiced in their cheerfulness, although he never once joined them in their songs. From afar he saw Elrond’s proud figure overlooking the valley from the grand veranda and anticipating their arrival. When they approached they exchanged the traditional greetings.  
“Gîl síla erin lû e-govaded vín.” _A star shines upon the hour of our meeting._

“Baren bar lin. Le hannon a tholel.” _My home is your home. Thank you for coming._ They followed Elrond into the halls of his home and were shown their chambers of resting.

“Perhaps it would be prudent to discuss for a while before the meeting, oh Elvenking”, Elrond suggested with a discreet but distinctive tone of mockery. Thranduil knew very well that most of the highborn of the Eldar looked upon him with a sort of resentment, for the choices he had made and the secluded life he had chosen to lead; this did not interest him, however, as one might think. His only interest was for the welfare of his people, and if seclusion was the path on which their happiness lay then that was the one he would choose for them. The other matters that burdened Middle-earth were of little importance to him if they had no repercussions on the Woodland Realm of Eryn Galen. The present situation, however, had already put his lands into harm’s way and that was the sole reason for which he had left his kingdom behind and come to the gathering.

“So, Master Elrond, what is it that you find to be of such urgency that it cannot wait until later?”, Thranduil inquired.    
“You are aware of the onslaught on Dol Guldur, but you might not be informed of its outcome”, Elrond responded. “Its failure may bring the undoing of us all, for it is unfortunately true that the Necromancer fled before it even commenced. This is the reason for which I wished to speak with you. You are the one to whom this event may cause the most immediate damage, as well as the one who now might carry out the greatest effort to contain the evil. As we do not know whither the sorcerer fled, it is safe to presume that he may still roam the paths of Mirkwood.”

“I understand”, Thranduil replied, “I shall immediately send word to my people to raise the alertness and to be on the watch.”


	12. Treachery, travelling and teasing trubadouring, Beorn 2

eorn looked at Bard through half-closed eyes in the dim, warm glow of the fireplace.

“Elrond, the Lord of Rivendell? What business would I have with him?” the huge skin changer asked. Bard went on to explain about the summoning he and Dain had received, mentioning that he and the now contentedly snoring dwarves had glimpsed the Elvenking Thranduil heading in the same direction through the woods. It would seem that most important parties had been invited to participate in some sort of meeting.

Beorn’s beard bristled with annoyance at being left out, while at the same time being relieved at the thought of being left to his own devices. The combination of the two left him even more annoyed, because the feeling of relief could be interpreted as cowardice; and Beorn, protector of the western Mirkwood was no coward! His voice rumbled low in his chest when he replied,

“A meeting of Lords you say, and they would leave me out of it? I will not hear of it! Let us be off in the morning to have word with these Lords in Rivendell.” 

As before, he provided ponies for the dwarves, and a nice, cream coloured mare for Bard. His own preferred mount was a dark grey, lean and swift stallion, whose lineage could be traced back to the vast plains of Rohan to the south, called Shadesprinter. Beorn thought the dwarves were always a bit too utilitarian when it came to their loaned equines, seeing them as vehicles rather than travelling companions. This lead him to badger them about their care and making them dismount as soon as he saw more difficult terrain off in the distance. Crossing the mountains with the dwarves’ complaining filling his ears really took a toll on what little patience the man possessed. 

Eventually seeing the vale of Rivendell ahead greatly improved his mood; not that he would let anyone know that. Somewhere far off he could hear a voice, melodious but mocking, that made fun of his beard. Then he needed no longer feign his scowl and returned to his usual state of mind. He declined the fine lodgings he was offered and opted to stay in the room above the stables, a simply furnished but homely accommodation with the familiar scent of horses. The elves, who themselves cultivate great friendships with their mounts, respected this and no longer made fun of his massive beard, a theme which had at first started out of envy. 

Their host had been unable to meet them upon their arrival and so Beorn sought out solitude (what a relief after the constant prattling and singing if the dwarves!) in one of the vast gardens until the time for introductions seemed appropriate.

 


	13. Mounts, Memories and Mountains

hey had made off towards Rivendell early in the morning just as the dew from the night before started to evaporate, creating an eerie mist around them. Their going was greatly improved by Beorn’s horses that, besides the company itself, also bore with them large amounts of food. To say that Beorn seemed pleased with the trip would be an exaggeration, but they all walked on amiably enough.

During the walk Bard found that he enjoyed the company of Dain more and more. The dwarf did not prattle on too much, a trait that was much appreciated by Bard, and the things he did say occasionally managed to bring a smile to his face, although it was quickly stifled. Dain once made a comment about a stone that looked like his mother which had Bard throwing his hand over his mouth as not to laugh out loud. He felt as though his grimness and the sternness he had acquired during his lifetime were lifting; not being around a dreary city ruled by a corrupt leader lightened his mood. The good humour did not last for long though, for the closer they got to the Misty Mountains, the more sombre it grew. Even in the company of the strong Beorn did the feeling of uneasiness never fully go away as they approached the goblins’ lair. Bard had never been so far away from home and having just beaten the goblins in the Battle of Five Armies, he could not despise the nasty creatures more. His frown lines started to run deeper and he rushed the company on through the mountains but the ponies had a hard time tackling the rough and cliffy paths and it slowed them down considerably. When Bard ushered them to move faster and tried to make a point of picking a more safe way, even though it went over sharp rocks, he found it curious that Beorn seemed to worry more about the ponies than the residing goblins. Although few, some goblins were still there, and when Bard finally came through the mountains and could see Rivendell, he let out a deep sigh of relief. As brave as he was, exposed to the elements of the Misty Mountains and the constant threat of goblins filled with a lust for revenge, no man would feel quite confident.


	14. Spying, Speculating and Story-time, Bilbo 3

t first Bilbo felt ridiculous lurking behind a tree, but he could not help himself; his curiosity had got the better out of him. Suddenly, Bilbo heard a twig break. He turned quickly to see who it could be. Someone was lurking behind a tree, also seeming interested in the grey wizard. Bilbo was just about to greet the person as he realized that the ring was still on. He hid himself behind a tree to take it off and gathered courage to say hello. He tried to figure out an excuse, since he too was following the wizard; after all he could be quite charming. Bilbo prepared his first line, and just as he opened his mouth, he realized that the person in front of him was a child. Since the child was in pretty much the same height as him, it could not be older than twelve. The young one had long dark hair and dark eyes; it was not an elf. Bilbo looked closely: the child was dressed in the same kind of clothes as the elves wore. The hobbit was confused. Was this child living with the elves? Or was it just a really good friend to them? But then, why would a child be here alone? Perhaps the parents were also supposed to be at the meeting. After a while Bilbo realised that he had been staring for quite some time. He reached out his hand to introduce himself,

“Hi, I’m Mr. Baggins, or Bilbo if you like, and who might you be?” said Bilbo with a gentle and calm tone, trying not to frighten the youngster.

“Hello”, came the answer with a squeaky voice, “I’m Estel”.

“May I ask what you are doing here?” said Bilbo.

”I’m not supposed to be at the meeting; they say that I’m too young.”

Bilbo got irritated since he too was not allowed at the meeting. Why wasn’t he allowed? What was so important that he could not join?

“Where are you from, Estel? And where are your parents?” Bilbo asked.

“I live here with my mother” said Estel with a smile, but, as the urchin was going to tell Bilbo about its father, Estel’s eyes became sad.

“My father died when I was little.” Seeing the sad look on the child’s face made Bilbo feel bad; he did not know how to make Estel smile, but perhaps a story would make them both happier, at least for now. “Which story should I tell”, thought Bilbo and then he remembered the trolls.

“Do you want to hear a story about how a hobbit and thirteen dwarves managed to escape from three awful, ugly looking trolls?” said Bilbo with hope that the smile would return.

“Oh, yes I would very much like that” said Estel with a wide smile. From the look of it Bilbo still had some time before the meeting was to start, and, to be honest, he was quite excited to be able to tell the story about the trolls for the first time.


	15. Greenery, Greetings and Gatherings, Beorn 3

s Beorn sat in the sunlight, just outside the shade of a magnificent oak tree that looked like it had been there for a millennium and planned to remain for at least one more, he listened to the soft whisper of the wind dancing with the grass and wild flowers that surrounded him. For once there was a tranquil moment; these had become rare in the last few years because of the sense of corruption slowly seeping throughout the woodland realm and the erratic beasts it caused. His train of thought was interrupted by soft steps from behind, so he turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. A dark haired elf with the posture of somebody in charge was making his way across the silky grass, straight towards him.

As the elf reached him he looked up.

“You are our host, I presume”, Beorn grumbled amiably. The lord of the Elven-wise answered gracefully that indeed he was, and apologised for not being able to greet the travelling party that Beorn arrived with.

“It’s not a problem, truly,” Beorn rumbled with a bit of amusement, “I know quite well how it feels when guests arrive in droves and take over your home. This being the Last Homely House and all, I suspect you get a lot of guests." Yet again, with the grace only an elf possesses, Elrond answered that he was always delighted to host travellers. That didn’t mean that he never grasped a minute or so of peace here in the outer, less tamed edge of the valley, the elf admitted. They shared a quiet chuckle at the thought of hosts sneaking out when their guests arrived.

 

“Lord Elrond,” Beorn said suddenly, “I am aware that invitations for a peace summit were sent out to the most prominent parties in the areas past the Misty Mountains and yet I received no such message. Was there no thought of me as important enough to invite?” If the sudden change of subject startled the elf he made no sign of it. Instead he looked thoughtful, stating that there had been a message sent to Beorn by raven a few fortnights before the meeting. The fact that it had not arrived was something to look into but it would have to be at a later date.

 

Since there was little to do about the issue at that time, Beorn proposed that they go meet his travelling companions. Off they went, back into the bustle of Rivendell and its homely but many noises. The skinchanger brought the Elflord to the guest room where he knew that Bard was being accommodated. Dain and host of dwarves were telling stories in Bard’s room when the two arrived. The introductions were swift and polite, as some of the dwarves had been there not long before, and Bard complimented the lodgings and architecture of Rivendell. He would love to consult with the artisans of this craft to learn some of their methods, so that he could integrate some of it to the rebuilding of his city, Dale. Elrond answered that naturally that could be arranged. There was a bit of time still before the meeting and so the Elflord led Bard to his most knowledgeable architect and left them to it. Beorn went back to the stables to care for his horses while Elrond did his last preparations for the meeting.


	16. Lords, Ladies and Latecomers, Elrond 3

he dark haired elven lord walked into the main hall of Rivendell. Not a glimpse of a soul was there to be found. He nodded, and an elven man with hair fair as gold approached him. The elf looked at him with a troubled brow.

“Can I be of service, Master Elrond?” the elven man asked with a gentle tone. Elrond returned his question with a delighted smile.   
“My old friend Glorfindel, I know that you are occupied. However, could you help me summon the other leaders for the meeting?” Elrond knew that his request was humble enough for Glorfindel to respond.   
“Lord Elrond knows that I am busy finding the one ri…” He stopped as he was about to say something forbidden, looked around and then continued. “I will help you friend. However, I must leave for my quest afterwards.” Elrond nodded and gave him a friendly pat on the arm.   
They parted and went in opposite directions to gather the people that were required. 

 

In just a couple of minutes all of the leaders were summoned to the main hall. Elrond gazed out over the company. There were people of almost every race, human as well as dwarf. Bard the bowman sat on a chair with a troublesome frown. Elrond could only grasp at the thoughts that went through Bard’s temple of mind. He changed perspective and looked over at the beastman Beorn. The elven lord had high beliefs that if they were going to have a peaceful ending to their summit, an alliance had to be formed between Beorn and the Elvenking. Then the Istari walked past him: first Radagast the brown. A funny fellow, a lot more merry than his two counterparts that Elrond had met. Gandalf the Pilgrim was at his heels. The wizards’ pipes were passing smoke up in the tranquil air; it was like a snake chasing the horizon, only to fade away in the pursuit.   
After that, the great lady and lord of Lórien arrived to the summit. Elrond nodded welcoming towards them both. They were more than dear to him. The dwarves entered loud and proud, joking and laughing about. Elrond sighed at the duo of the dwarves. He respected them highly, but they were their own kind, and he had a hard time understanding them. 

 

They waited for a while for the Elvenking, but he was nowhere to be seen. The lord of Rivendell grew distraught. Had not Glorfindel found Thranduil? The elven lord sighed and peered out over the fellowship. He raised his hand to Gandalf, signing him to let the summit commence.


	17. Reminiscing, Relatives and Reminders, Thranduil 3

nd so the time had come for the meeting that was the reason for their gathering. As Thranduil walked through the meandering corridors with his son Legolas by his side, he wondered to himself if this would be of any use. He had the foreboding that he would come to regret leaving his home and coming to Imladris. After the news he had received from Elrond about the outcome of the attack on Dol Guldur, he was growing increasingly perturbed at being away from his lands. There was, however, no way of changing these events. He could only hope that there would be no delay, so that he may soon be on his way home. It was also of great disgruntlement that the lady of Lórien was to be present although it was to expect at a meeting of this kind. Despite this, he was glad that he would meet his kinsman Celeborn once again. Even though Thranduil held a deep resentment for the Noldor elves and disliked the close bond his father’s cousin had chosen to cultivate with them, he reminisced with fondness their years in Doriath and thought him one of the noblest and wisest in Middle-earth. He pondered how much had changed since the days when their hearts were still young and unsullied by the woes of battle. Yet, the world was the same; the evil was ever present and it seemed that would never change. He turned and looked upon his son; Legolas was still in that state of a pure heart, as Thranduil had strived to protect him from the anguish that the world begot to those who roamed in it. Except the Silvan elves, Legolas had only ever had contact with the people of Esgaroth, and since his mother, the fair Gwairin Lorthoniel (it is after her that the Woodland elves amongst themselves refer to the Enchanted Forest River as Gwairin) had passed on he had not met any other elves than the Silvan and the few Sindars at their court.

“See father”, Legolas exclaimed with mirth as if to affirm his innocent nature, “it is Mithrandir, the Grey Wizard”. And indeed it was the one of whom his son had spoken, Olórin of old, who shaped the fate of Middle-earth from the sidelines and warily guarded the interests of the Valar and of all the creatures that inhabited Arda. 

 

As his thoughts had dispersed, he became aware of something remarkable. At times when sunlight shone down upon the halls from the high windows, he could see a faint fluttering shadow creeping behind the wizard. Mithrandir, strangely, did not seem to notice anything, but, instead, to Thranduil’s astonishment, he seemed to occasionally glimpse back and smile to himself, almost as if he were amused. Not many things could bring the Elvenking to bemusement, but this bewildering occasion was not an everyday sight. As he endeavoured to unravel what appeared a trickery of the eyes, a walking specter, he passed a narrow balcony. He had forgotten the sheer beauty that lay in the valley. The sun was hidden behind the encircling hills, its radiant beams scattering upon the trees and glittering as they struck the surface of the flowing river, and the mist that enshrouded the scenery like a frail gossamer veil spun out of the finest silk, while the larks’ eerie trills echoed in the dale. Invigorated from the marvels that passed before him momentarily, Thranduil gathered his thoughts and turned again to the halls of Elrond, where he noticed the noble Glorfindel, who approached him.

“Lord Thranduil, you must come with me for the meeting is about to commence.” “How humble a demeanor from a man so great”, the king thought. He then followed the wise elf whilst wondering at how long he must have been admiring the beauty of Imladris even though it had seemed but a fleeting moment.


	18. Commencing, Charisma and Common Goals, Gandalf 3

lowly but surely, Gandalf took the stage in the middle of the circle. In part to let the late Elvenking arrive and be seated, and in part because he did not enjoy rushing through things unless it was absolutely necessary.  Murmurs quietly went through the crowd, which was not unusual whenever he decided to speak. He supposed that he should be grateful for the attention. An audience full of doubts and fear was better than no audience at all. Thrice he tapped his large staff upon the stone floor, and thrice a booming sound was heard. Silence immediately fell upon his onlookers.  

“My friends.” he began. “As you are aware, a dark shadow has been cast upon our lands. It is not the shadow of mere goblins or trolls, but a shadow of something far more sinister. One cannot deny the presence of evil in these lands, much less ignore it. This is why you have been called, and this is hopefully why you are here.”

He paused briefly, as his eyes studied the room. His eyes locked with the Elvenking. Thranduil did not let as much as a shimmer of emotion race across his face. Gandalf knew that he had not done enough. Stoic appearances were not sufficient; he had to make them believe.

“Sauron has returned.”, he grimly stated. The room was immediately thrust into disarray. Voices covered voices, and just as Gandalf readied his staff once more, Elrond raised a hand. Respect for the Lord of the Elven-wise had not been forgotten, at least not while they remained within his domain. However, a small scoff could still be heard from the direction of Thranduil. Elrond let it pass unnoticed and spoke softly, but with deep determination. “Let him finish”, he said, and once again gave the word to Gandalf. The wizard cleared his throat, and began anew.

“It is true that we known not much of his return. But his presence at Dol Guldur is evidence enough. Still we know exactly two things. We know that he does not have the power to launch a full-scale assault, because otherwise his troops would be upon our lands at this very hour. And we know that the realm is too splintered to face him at this time. Many would not even believe the tales of his return, much less risk the lives of their men based on them. And so, the questions which loom over us are these: how can we prevent him from gaining power, and, if need be, how can we defend ourselves? We cannot leave a former stronghold of the dark lord left unchecked, nor can we assume that we can fend for ourselves against such a powerful foe if he were to return.” Gandalf paused briefly, and saw the room silently nod in agreement. “So what shall be done with our lands? These are the questions we will attempt to answer.” With his speech concluded, he slowly returned to his seat. He took off his hat, and gestured with it towards his spectators.

“Let the discussions begin. Our world may very well depend upon it.” As per usual, he smiled to himself. That was how you made them believe.


	19. Tales, Trolls and Time limits, Bilbo 4

ilbo was at the end of his story, 

“…and what the trolls did not know was that the sun was rising, and do you know what happens to trolls who catch the glimpse of daylight?” said Bilbo, pleased with his exciting storytelling.

“No, I do not” said Estel, enjoying Bilbo’s exaggerations and sound effects.

“Oh well, I will tell you! When the sun hits the trolls they become stone in a second! And just like that we made it from getting stewed by trolls”. Estel looked impressed by Bilbo’s story, and, even though Bilbo had made a few changes making himself look like the hero rescuing the dwarves, he felt satisfied being Estel’s hero. The story had taken quite a while to tell, and since Bilbo got carried away most of the parts, he had completely forgotten about the meeting. The meeting had probably already started, and he had to hurry not to miss anything more. He looked at Estel and thought that perhaps it would be more fun to spy on the meeting together, but this would mean not carrying the ring since that would probably frighten the child. He knew this would mean to risk getting noticed, but if they were careful enough it should not be a problem. They rushed to the meeting. When they got there Bilbo could breathe out, since it had taken Elrond quite a while to greet and to thank everyone for being there on such short notice. The dwarves were gathered along with Bard; Thranduil, the Elvenking was there, and Elrond and some other elves Bilbo had not had the opportunity to meet yet, and even Beorn had showed up, which was a pretty extraordinary sight for anyone who knew Beorn and his grumpy ways. There was even an odd-looking old man, dressed entirely in brown.


	20. Declaration, Dale and Determination, Bard 4

ard slowly rose after Gandalf’s monologue. He had been waiting patiently to raise his voice while the rest of the meeting had erupted in protests. He felt tired of all the strange creatures he had encountered; the brown wizard especially had him on edge. No man with a bird’s nest on his head would ever gain Bard’s favour, that was for sure, and although he respected Gandalf, he did not quite like the smug smile that had erupted from his face after he had finished his speech. For a moment Bard felt like he was watched from a distance, but he shook the feeling and continued with his mission. He was tired of nonsense and just wanted to make his point. He declared loudly that all things that were to be discussed at the meeting were very important indeed, and that he was honoured to be invited, but, in fact, there was really just one thing that he himself wanted to discuss at the meeting, and that was the rebuilding of Dale. He could almost sense rejection from some of the crowd from the beginning of his speech, but nevertheless he kept at it.

“As everybody knows” he said, “Dale is in a dire need of resources and work forces to make it a prosperous city where we can keep evil out and make our people thrive. We are now in a period of time where we are in great need of strong cities and lands to keep up the peace. Dale will together with your help become the epicentre of a new Kingdom of Man that will be able to protect the world. This is a time for leaders and kings to step up to the challenge of fighting evil, and Dale will be most essential in this task”.

Bard spoke about this for quite a while, and the dwarves who had gotten to know him over the past few weeks wondered at this eloquence; never before had they seen him so passionate about something. He raised his voice several times and pumped his fist in the air. It was hard to miss how much this mattered to him. After his uncharacteristically long speech about Dale, he finished.

“And therefore I shall require strong workers to rebuild the city and other resources to make sure that we can be a strong foothold and a symbol of good where we can protect each other from harm”. The speech seemed to make a great impact and after a few moments of silence Bard sat down and faced Elrond whom had made a move to get up.


	21. Dismissal, Dangers and Divisions, Elrond 4

ou speak of wise things, Bard” Elrond said gratifyingly towards the Man. “However, we have more important tasks to speak of before we begin to discuss your matter.” Bard looked down, a defeated man. Elrond knew how much his comment could hurt their relationship with the people of Dale. Nonetheless, their focus should lie on the more important matters at hand.

“The first important thing to address is about how to hold the Woodland Realm safe from horrors. After all, the dark one has returned and surely will have his sight on Dol Guldur yet again.” His voice filled the air and was met with silence. It was like no one had pondered on that option, that the return of the dark lord was imminent. The silence was almost numbing. Elrond heard the chirp of birds on a branch above the company; it brought a smile to his lips. A burly voice broke the silence. Beorn, who clearly noticed where Elrond’s eyes went, spoke out.

“What about the animals? What about the birds!? Are they in danger, or do you only care about the realm of men and elves?” He spat on the ground in clear dislike and proudly announced. “I shall do what I must to defend all that is in my fauna, even if it includes men and elves.” He made the last word almost sound like something foul. Elrond was deeply impressed by Beorn’s character, even though he had insulted him.     
  
Elrond looked at the worried group. They were muttering about the time to come, things they were in no control to change without aid. Elrond’s voice soared through the murmurs.

“I believe that Beorn is right in this. We should divide Mirkwood, giving half to Beorn and his kind to safekeep. I say that we have to sever the Woodland Realm for the sake of its own inhabitants. It is clear that Beorn is a vigilant and steadfast… Man. He can protect his share.” He looked at Beorn, who only sat and gruffed. However, he seemed pleased with the words that Elrond spoke. All men were fond of some admiration, even a beastman.  
“We should therefore also need the support of the elves in Mirkwood. It is paramount that Beorn get all the aid he require.” Elrond sat down and let his word sink in. He saw the face of Thranduil change before his eyes. It made Elrond slightly amused, even though he was worried about how the room would react. He had just proclaimed that they should cut a kingdom apart.


	22. Ungrateful, Uncivilized Usurpers! Thranduil 4

he Elvenking was not one to get roused for no good cause; this, however, was not only a good cause, but in Thranduil’s mind the matter was outrageous. When Elrond made the suggestion that he should share his realm with Beorn, he became infuriated.

“Be so kind, dear master Elrond, as to elaborate why you deem it necessary to tear apart the lands that my people have looked after for millennia. Will it, in ways I am apparently incapable of perceiving, somehow be favourable to sever the edges of the great Eryn Galen from the Woodland Realm? Or perhaps you have carried the notion further; perhaps, Beorn is to assume responsibility over all of Eryn Galen. For one man alone of course has the capability to protect such a vast and arcane forest. He will certainly be able to watch over the far stretching miles and all that inhabit them; surely far better than the vanguard of the Woodland elves, which has through the tempestuous mists of time kept evil at bay. Or perhaps that is why you make such a derisive suggestion; you are not content with the efforts that my people bring forth and therefore wish to remove the authority we have from these grounds.” Elrond calmly replied to this. “Elvenking, it was not my purpose to aggravate you. But I believe that Beorn could aid your people in protecting the borders of Mirkwood from the evil that stirs there.” Yet, Thranduil could not bear this insinuation that he was incapable of protecting his realm.

“I speak not to fools who do not know the world we live in. You all are fully aware that my father gave his life to protect, not only his own lands, but yours as well. Or do you think my father was killed in vain, after leaving his home to defend the interests of Middle-earth and all that dwell there? Nearly thirty thousand of my people, Eldar, Firstborn of Ilúvatar, such as yourself, even if you discern them as less worthy, were slain that day. If not my father’s sacrifice has any meaning, then what of theirs? Is it to be discarded so lightly by the whims of forgetful assemblies? Yet, if these efforts are indeed forgotten or considered of meager worth, is the same true of the participation of the Woodland elves in the battle not two seasons past? I do not deny Beorn’s valor nor his contribution to the victorious outcome of the battle, but are our efforts less worth so that we should lose a part of our home even though we have proven our efficacy in guarding it? Hearken to these words. I shall not take kindly to any attempts to seize any part of the Woodland Realm nor to any usurper who claims the right to rule it.” With that, and visibly swayed from his usual composure, Thranduil stepped back into his seat.


	23. Politics, Picking Sides and Future Prosperity, Bard 5

ard nodded his head solemnly after Thranduil had finished. Who knew more about how important boundaries and the totality of kingdoms are than he who had seen Lake Town being destroyed by corruption and stupidity? No, kingdoms had to be kept whole and should be ruled by a fair king; dividing things only lead to disruption and fights for power and resources. It creates clashes between people and in this perilous time kingdoms had to be kept stable.

“I believe Thranduil to be in the right on this issue. How can we question a king’s sovereignty over his own kingdom? If there is one thing that is important in these grave times, it is unity. How can we expect our people to trust the good side if we cannot keep our kingdoms together? If we start question our leaders now, how are we then going to keep peace if we cannot trust each other to take care of our own land and its people?”

Bard could see Thranduil nodding at this, so he continued to speak in favour of his side. Bard knew how powerful the Elvenking was and having Thranduil living so close to his own kingdom, it would be foolish to not take his side. Bard, of course, did see the point of dividing the Mirkwood forest. If they could find another strong leader he could surely be helpful in keeping the forest free from nasty creatures and dark thoughts. But while Bard thought Beorn to be nice enough, he did not seem to show a lot of interest in the battle between evil and good, and all he seemed to care about was the animals. Bard did not want to trust the creature to keep the forest safe, and it was clear that taking Thranduil’s side would benefit Bard more in the future.  

As Bard was wrapping up his talk, he really felt quite finished with the conversation, and after being rejected by Elrond his spirits were quite low. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dain struggling to get up before anyone else raised their voice, and so he sat down to let his newfound friend speak.  



	24. Animals and Anger Management, Beorn 4

he Dwarf king stood up and addressed the room with all the presence a strong leader such as he can muster.

“Indeed, a kingdom has to be kept intact, and protected from the inside out. That is how you build strength, a craft that we of the line of Durin have perfected over centuries. Splitting up a realm because there are dark forces stirring will not make the dark forces dissipate, it will give them a chance to sunder…”  


 

This is where Beorn completely lost his patience. With a roar that was rivaled only by an autumn thunder storm, he stood up tall; his massive frame seeming larger and darker than one would assume possible for a human, beard and hair bristling, making him look every part a rabid, wild animal. His chair toppled over and he growled something that seemed to contain the words:

“.. ‘t give a rat’s.. elves marking trees like hounds… crushing spiders… dwarves, dendrophobic little...“ and a few other gems that it is lucky the assembled dignitaries could not quite make out.  


 

When Beorn’s chair had clattered to the floor, a startled squeak had come from behind one of the pillars surrounding the assembly.

“Who’s there?” Dain asked suspiciously. By the time the hobbit, who had apparently sounded the noise, stepped forward, Beorn had calmed down enough to speak.

“I care not for lands or glory or politics! I will not rob you of your realm, Elvenking, I have no desire of it. My only interest is to protect the creatures of the forest!” Then he picked up his chair and sat back down. Elrond and Thranduil invited Bilbo to join the meeting and Beorn looked at him with reluctant curiosity.


	25. Intimidation, Invitation and Ideas, Bilbo 5

ilbo and Estel were hiding behind a pillar. The meeting had taken quite a turn; almost all of them were in bad moods, and no one looked willing to cooperate. Elrond was trying to figure out a compromise to share Mirkwood between Thranduil and Beorn, which of course none of them could agree on. All of a sudden Beorn’s patience had disappeared. Estel screamed, scared of Beorn’s roar. Bilbo quickly placed his hand over Estel’s mouth hoping that no one heard it, but that of course was just wishful thinking since Bilbo somehow never got away with anything. “Who’s there?” said a voice not too happy. Bilbo looked at Estel and whispered in the child’s ear.

“Stay here, I will go out.” He did not want to get Estel into any trouble; after all it was he who invited Estel to spy on the meeting. Bilbo walked slowly towards Elrond whom welcomed Bilbo to the meeting. As Bilbo walked into the circle he could not face Gandalf; he knew Gandalf was not pleased with him. Some of the elves who did not know Bilbo protested against him being there and wanted Elrond to send him back to his house immediately. Thranduil, however, thought that the elf-friend perhaps could bring a new perspective. Thranduil convinced the others to let Bilbo speak.

“Would you be so kind to share with us why you have decided to join our meeting?” said Thranduil. Bilbo felt the others staring at him. He looked at Gandalf, and Gandalf gave Bilbo an encouraging nod which made him feel safe to open his mouth.

“Well, I was thinking, that the Anduin dale, it’s not protected?” said Bilbo, almost stumbling on the words.

“No, it is not” said Thranduil, not knowing where Bilbo was going.

“I thought that perhaps Beorn could protect it, since it needs protection, and Beorn, and you, my lord, would not have to compromise. It’s close to both Mirkwood and the Misty Mountains, which would protect both the passages of the mountain and the passages into the forest.”


	26. Perspectives, Participation and Professionalism, Elrond 5

lrond, not sure of what he heard, pondered the hobbit’s words; he spoke the truth. The vale of Anduin lay unprotected. However, he was still unsure if the Elvenking was able to summon the military force to defend all of Mirkwood. Thoughts consumed his mind and made him vanish awhile from the ongoing discussion that was taking place in front of him. Thranduil applauded the idea, sending a pleased smile towards Bilbo. To him it was clear that the woodlands were his to protect.    


 

“What do you think Master Elrond?” Bilbo’s question was so sincere and childlike that most of the gathering began to burst out in chuckles and laughter. Elrond cleared his throat, and the focus of the gathering turned to him.

“This idea of yours, Mister Baggins, is a rather decent one. It might be able to be carried out. Beorn can be the guardian of the Anduin Vale” Elrond nodded approvingly to the hobbit, who in return blessed Elrond with a cheerful smile.

“Do the members agree to these terms? Do we give the Vale of Anduin to Beorn to protect and leave the Woodland Realms of Mirkwood to the Elvenking Thranduil?” Elrond proclaimed the question with a mighty tone, summoning all his strength. He was met with a collective “Aye!”. The group then burst out in cheers. Elrond’s hearty laughs went out in the air.   
“Then it is decided! The Alliance of Mirkwood, that is what we are and we shall never perish.” Elrond said firmly, although there was still hints of laughter in his claim and even through the laughter he could hear Gandalf snicker to himself.


	27. Thoughts, Tobacco and Tolerance, Gandalf 4

andalf chuckled quietly to himself. After all, he had never expected the hobbit to make neither a entrance so poignant nor an argument so compelling. Even Elrond had admitted that it was a rather-decent idea, which was something Gandalf took great delight in. Everyone starts at a terrible idea, but it is not until you have gotten that out that you can move on to a not-absolutely-awful idea. A not-absolutely-awful idea becomes a mere poorly-thought-out idea, a poorly-thought-out idea becomes a not-quite-good idea and a not-quite-good idea becomes a rather-decent idea. And so it continues. Apparently the Bilbo had skipped a few steps, but Gandalf did not mind. The hobbit must have grown more than he knew, and had quite a few ideas of his own. At this rate, he’d arrive at a fantastically-brilliant idea in a few weeks! Somewhat lost in thought, as he was prone to, Gandalf eagerly left the meeting hall. He had just stepped outside when he noticed Radagast motioning towards him. He had thought him unusually quiet, but he understood his apprehension. The white council had been in slight disarray ever since the revelation of Mairon’s return.   
“Have you gotten word from Saruman yet?”, the brown wizard inquired. “I still feel the shadow. It may be diminished, but it remains yet.”

“Patience, cousin.”, Gandalf said merrily, trying to alleviate some of Radagast’s concern. “Mere days have past since our council. We may not expect the impossible, even from Curunír. Can you not rejoice over the peace we have brokered? The creatures we have saved?”. Radagast took on a look simultaneously annoyed and concerned, as when the rain would disturb one of the small birds which lived under his hat.

“The darkness lingers! It corrupts, taints and molests still in my forest! To my creatures! How can I be merry when such evil things are still afoot!”, the brown wizard nearly shouted.

“Allow me to reiterate.” Gandalf calmly said. “Patience. We have to allow it to heal. We cannot allow the darkness to root and weep over our losses; we have to celebrate what life remains. Saruman will aid us, and now we have not one, but two protectors of Mirkwood. Even if one of them will not admit it. And as you must allow the forest to heal, you must allow laughter to come. Laughter is-”.

“Yes, yes, I know your feelings on laughter. I swear I could recite them backwards by now.” Gandalf gave the clearly vexed wizard a warm smile. “If you are in need of distraction, I hear Beorn is growing some excellent tobacco near his house. Perhaps you should acquaint yourself with him, and see where the evening takes you.” The brown wizard finally cracked a smile.

“I suppose it would be as good of a reason as any. And he’s the closest thing to a man that I can tolerate. It shall be considered, at the very least.” Radagast left in a hurry, with some happiness in his step. The birds in the trees chirped excitedly when he passed by, and he gave them affectionate nods in return. The grey wizard, however, still stood firmly planted with his eyes fixed on the horizon.

 


	28. Merriment and Making Friends, Thranduil 5

nd so the meeting had come to its end. As Thranduil was seated in a somewhat secluded corner of the grand hall where at present Elrond’s parting feast was taking place, he maintained his amazement at the little hobbit’s accomplishment. He had indeed proven himself worthy of the title Bilbo the Magnificent, as he alone had been able to provide a solution and reconcile the most powerful yet different-minded beings of Middle-earth. It was undeniably a feat worth praise. The Elvenking looked up at the collection of folk that were seated in the room and the elves that played softly on their harps, their long pale fingers floating lightly across the gilded by the moonlight strings. Earlier their songs were joyous, celebrating the outcome of the summit and bringing hope that evil soon may be banished, but now as the evening bore a royal blue tint, it seemed their melodies too had obtained a more mournful character. It was almost as if they sang in whispering sighs, as their words lingered in the twilight shadows, swirling breaths of air upon the mirror-like river below.  


 

He had risen and was making his way to his chambers to retire for the night as he passed before Beorn. He did not wish to leave without expressing that he had not meant to offend him and acknowledging the courage he had displayed in a battle that was not his.

“I offer you my sincere apologies, oh Beorn the valiant, if I have in any way insulted you with my words at the gathering. I assure you this was not my intention. I am certain that you will prove a faithful guardian of the passages of the valley and I will ensure you will be provided with assistance by my elves if ever the need should occur.” Beorn seemed unmoved by this offering of allegiance, but he let off a growl of consent.

“I have always cared for the lands where there are defenseless creatures and I will continue to do so now”, he merely stated whilst scratching his gargantuan beard (indeed there was not another beard equal in size in all of Middle-earth, hardly even amongst the dwarves). “However, there are grim times ahead of us, and no man can stand alone. So, I accept your offer of alliance.” This statement was accompanied by yet another scratch, and as a miniscule object fell out, it seemed the culprit of the irritation had been removed; it was a leftover crumb from the plethora of foods in which most guests, as well as Beorn, had indulged with great appetite. It appeared to Thranduil now that there was more to Beorn than he had originally perceived. Much like himself he was prepared to go to any lengths to protect those in his care, and even give his own life if need be. “This alliance could prove of great value in the future”, Thranduil thought to himself. As he later on continued on his way, he recalled that he must also seal the alliance with the new leader of Dale, Bard, and commenced to find him.


	29. Amiable Acceptance of Allies, Beorn 5

he feast set before them was magnificent. As elves are very sympathetic people, there were no meat dishes to sully his mood, and everything was delectable. Beorn delighted in the savoury dishes and revelled over the complexity of the desserts. If there is one thing you can learn from a hobbit, it is how to appreciate food, and Beorn was an apt learner. As the plates were almost empty, the participants of the gathering were starting to make their way back to their quarters to make the last preparations for their return home.

Beorn sat comfortably leaning his back against a pillar, just enjoying the atmosphere, when the Elvenking Thranduil stopped as he was walking past. The elf made it clear that he had meant no insult during the gathering and that he would provide any assistance necessary in the protection of the Anduin vale. “For someone insisting that he doesn’t want to insult me, he is doing a really poor job”, Beorn thought. But despite the unintentional insults, the King of Mirkwood meant well, and so the skinchanger gave a low growl of agreement.  
“I have always cared for the lands where there are defenseless creatures and I will continue to do so now”, he added. During the growl, something started itching in his beard, and so his fingers went for a hunt in the glorious wild tangles attached to his face. “However, there are grim times ahead of us, and no man can stand alone. So, I accept your offer of alliance”, he admitted, still scratching his beard. A small, silvery sugar pearl from one of the desserts fell out and the itching subsided. “You should know that the offer goes both ways. Me and mine will help defend Mirkwood if assistance is ever needed. Keep in mind that it is best to ask before, rather than after it’s too late, eh? I sense we are both proud albeit reasonable folk. Our common goal is to keep the realms safe, and working together is the best way to achieve this”, Beorn continued. Thranduil nodded thoughtfully.

  
The skinchanger had been unable to resist examining the horses of the other dignitaries and had been quite impressed with the mounts of the elven host. He knew they had a good touch with the animals, but still it was astounding. And so a complex discussion of horse tending, which they both delighted in, commenced, boring everyone within earshot. This act, that nobody in the future thought twice about, would set the foundation of a great friendship and a collaboration spanning generations.


	30. Optimistic Outcomes, Elrond 6

he sounds of strings flowed like harmony through the Imladris, songs of a forlorn age filled the dark evening. Elrond smiled at his young students, their flawless melodies played with a perfect pitch. It framed the evanescent light undeniably, the balance of the weaved melancholy suited perfectly with the forged beauty of serenity. He truly admired their artwork that was presented at this feast. Music is a passion that few people afford to have in dire times, the elven lord being one of the lucky few. Elrond eyed the feast and could with ease say that it was a success; in matter of fact the whole day had been a success. It had been a lengthy day and Elrond grew fatigued. With a good laughter he departed from the others and made his way to his quarters. 

 

Thoughts and images filled Elrond mind as he wandered by the gardens of the Last Homely House. There was still hope for the time to come; the hobbit had seen to that. They were strange beings, hobbits, but they seemed to have their hearts in the right place. That such a little man could change the course of history. Elrond hoped that he may one day see another hobbit that could pierce through the darkness as Bilbo, then he shrugged. Bilbo was probably one of a kind, sadly. His mind turned to the darkness; he thought about the forces of evil and the unsure times that will come. The evil could now have turned to land behind Morannon and prosper there. Elrond did not like the thought of seeing the Plateau of Gorgoroth or Amon Amarth again. However, it could not hinder his spirit. The future would be a bright one. As he lowered himself to his bedstead, a familiar thought ran through his head. He was right all along. The day had brought him surprises, pleasant ones. 

 

A last thought of the past flickered through his mind before he fell asleep. He remembered Lindon, his old companion Gil-galad and the man who fostered him, Maglor. He wondered what input they would have had on the events of today. Would they agree? A smile left the elven lord as he thought of the people that inspired him with hope. They always left him with a feeling of home.


	31. Companionable Conversation of Construction, Bard 6

uring the festivities after the gathering, Bard retired to his room. He was in no mood for participating in the merriment; it only slowed down your brain, and he wanted his thoughts to be sharp for their departure in the morning. He was not much for dancing or singing, though he could not quite deny the beauty of some of the songs that could be heard through his window. Had the outcome of the meeting been more in his favour, he might have gone down to drink a pint, but after being denied the help to rebuild Dale his feelings were as bitter as ever. He listened to the music from the distance of his room while he was packing for the long journey back, and was just about to go to bed when the fair Thranduil entered his room.

Bard had great respect for the elf and immediately stood up to greet him. Bard had felt as though they were on the same side at the gathering, and that Thranduil could pose an important ally in the future. These feelings of companionship seemed to be felt by Thranduil as well, because as soon as he had entered the room, he offered his help in the rebuilding of Dale. The Elvenking kept the conversation short, which was greatly appreciated by Bard, whose respect for the elf grew larger by the second. He was offered skilled workers to help with the building and was even invited to Thranduil’s elven kingdom to discuss the designing of laws and what kind of precautions needed to be taken for Dale to be able to co-exist with other towns and kingdoms.

Bard accepted gracefully, knowing that he would have great help from the elf, and even though he did not think Thranduil would appreciate any suggestions from his side on how to improve the elven society, he knew that he just gained an important ally for his city. Bard bowed slightly and wished the Elvenking a pleasant journey and a good night. The elf nodded his head and gracefully disappeared out into the night.

The next day Bard felt at peace and said, together with Beorn and some very tired and grumpy dwarves, his goodbyes to the people awake. He thanked Elrond for his hospitality, and they were off towards Dale.


	32. Goodbyes, Gifted Horses and Goblin Slaying, Beorn 6

he sun stood bright and inviting a few fingers above the horizon by the time they departed. The party had been treated to a lavish breakfast, just in case the grand feast the night before had not been enough, and after having their fill and receiving the provisions necessary for the journey home, they left with many a farewell to their newfound allies.

Beorn was in a good mood, participating in the dwarves’ songs and telling a few stories of his own. He was not one to talk about himself, but he told them a tale of how he had met Ursúla of Mayore, the woman he wished would marry him but who had declined, telling him she was too busy killing goblins in the mountain passes. She was a daughter of one of the woodsmen from southern Mirkwood and had known her way around a sword since she was old enough to hold one. His dark eyes glazed over and he said nothing for some time, while Bard and the dwarves chattered on. Perhaps if the alliance really got things going, he could go help and then there wouldn’t be as many goblins, so she would get some free time. Indeed the plan worked, and Ursúla would later become the fierce mother of the first Beornings.

The dwarves were finally learning how to care for horses without Beorn nagging them, and as he knew now he could trust them, he gifted them the equines they had ridden. He was a bit distraught to bid farewell to Bard’s sweet, well behaved mare, but he knew the Lord of Dale was a good man, and Beorn wished to see the best outcome of this alliance. That meant sharing resources. The faster his former travelling companions reached Erebor and Dale and rebuilt, the faster they would be able to start preparing against the forces of darkness. They stayed for only one night, but during their time together they had all gained Beorn’s respect, and the goodbye was one between friends.

The vale of Anduin was now considered his responsibility, and he intended to do his part fully and efficiently. His hounds patrolled the lands and protected the fords. Little shelters were built along the most regular routes, to save future adventurers from the harshness of wind and rain, doubling as places for his patrols to rest. The large bears living in the Mirkwood, no longer concerned with the inner workings of the forest, were free to roam along the edges of the woods and into the vale accompanying the hounds. These took care of the last few goblin stragglers making their way home to their caves after their grim defeat in the battle of the five armies, that had played out so recently.

Therever he was needed, Beorn went, and the area enjoyed peace for a long time. Groups of men from the north and the surrounding area gathered to his cause, helping to make the area secure and famed for its amazing baking. Until, some eighty years later, when the world once again swarmed with creatures of the vilest sort. But that is another story entirely.


	33. A Song from the Road of Eternal Farewells, Thranduil 6

ow the dale of the Last Homely House was long since behind them. It may in fact be the last homely house in all of Middle-earth, thought Thranduil, as the day they spent there had, if not brought back his hope, at least lifted his spirit. It was as if it belonged to another world, an isolated valley of peace and happiness, with the spring blossoms ready to burst into bloom on the auburn bushes and the trees, a million different shades of green. As they now reached the edges of Eryn Galen, that hope was swiftly extinguished, like a candle by the bitter midnight wind. The air of decay had spread across the entire forest, causing the animals that dwelled there to abandon their homes. He was again reminded of the times, and truly the world, they lived in; for the world had always been a place of sorrow, a place where death held its reign of darkness. So, emotion burst forth from Thranduil’s chest, and in the forest echoed for the first time in over two thousand years the Elvenking’s crystalline voice in a doleful lament sprinkled with the remaining embers of his fading hope.

  
_In souls of wasteland is hidden the sorrow of the world;_   
_in enchanted forests the swords of cold steel swirled._   
_In kin and friend a dire foe was born,_   
_though with sweetness and laughter - an attempt to adorn._   
_But the great wheel of fate had turned,_   
_and within their hearts a deep fire burned,_   
_for the jewel of light had kindled a spark,_   
_which grew ever brighter in their minds full of dark._   
_And so the fire the spark had brought_   
_by terror, death and treason wrought._   
_In the carven caves of a thousand tears,_   
_in the bleak winter of the elder years._   
_Thus, in the halls of the nightingale’s song_   
_flowed now the blood of kinsmen strong,_   
_and red became the silver stream_   
_that used to catch the moonlight’s gleam._   
_But though the sins of the sons were not rewarded_   
_nor their foul crimes so sordid,_   
_yet the pattern is but a mold, recast and eternal;_   
_a river of mourn’, full with darkness nocturnal,_   
_that has flowed ever on since creation_   
_and doth beleaguer each new generation._   
_Then comes the day when all must end,_   
_and parting from thee, dearest friend_   
_bright eyes shall look upon the halls of Námo;_   
_to look upon the dew of woe,_   
_to wait for promises of life anew,_   
_to see at last the light so true._


	34. Interrupting Interrogation, Gandalf 5

fter three days of breakfasts, dinners and a few lunches, the wizard and the hobbit once again departed for the Shire. Their pace was brisk, and their stomachs were full while the roads stretched far before them. Suddenly, when in the land of the Dúnedain, somewhere between the Last Bridge and Weathertop, the wizard unceremoniously stopped. Bilbo seemed rather puzzled, especially when the wizard rewarded his confusion with a stern look. “Bilbo Baggins-”, the wizard began. “I have enjoyed keeping your secret, but I shall keep it no longer. Before, the urgency of other matters outweighed this one, yet that does not mean that it shall remain forgotten and unspoken. We are now far away from prying ears and elven song, so tell me.” Bilbo’s befuddlement was palpable. “W-what secret?” he quickly stammered. Gandalf’s eyes burned into the hobbit. “The secret of what you have in your pocket.” And in the blink of an eye, Bilbo’s mouth hung open, and he stared upon Gandalf as that of a farmer who just found out that his chickens were taking flight and heading for the moon.


	35. Secrets and Secrecy, Bilbo 6

f Gandalf knew about the ring all the while, why had he not said anything to Bilbo and, more importantly, why was the ring so special to Gandalf? Bilbo quickly composed himself, and answered best as he could.

“Gandalf, my dear old friend, this ring came to me in the caves and has helped me a lot during our journey, I don’t believe me keeping it would be an issue.” Gandalf was not the one to give away what he was thinking. Bilbo did not understand why Gandalf was so concerned. What could be so dangerous about the ring? It made him invisible which made the ring a magical ring, but not a dangerous one as far as Bilbo knew. It was hard separating from the ring; Bilbo could not stop playing with it in his pocket, protecting it from getting taken. He felt strongly about the ring, and he did not want to let it go, and he wasn’t about to either. Somehow he had to convince Gandalf that it would cause no harm to him or anyone else. “What danger will come to the Shire? The Shire is a safe place for the ring, and I will keep it safe”, Bilbo watched Gandalf carefully, but the wizard’s expression was unchanging.

”After all it was me who found it and therefore it would only be the right thing to let me keep it” said Bilbo hoping his confident tone wouldn’t upset Gandalf. Bilbo continued speaking; he was quite nervous.

“I will not use it, unless it is necessary, and I won’t tell anybody that I have it in my possession”.


	36. Consideration, Care and Conclusion, Gandalf 6

andalf slowly eyed the little hobbit from top to bottom, which did not take very long. There was an intensity in his eyes and manner which Gandalf had not noticed before. Was it the One Ring? Or had the hobbit actually matured so much in his travels? The wizard had known the Ring was in the hobbit’s possession ever since the siege of Erebor, but one could not simply mention the presence of one of the most powerful artifacts in Arda (and in the hands of a hobbit no less) without expecting chaos to erupt. He had to wait for a moment of solitude to confront Bilbo, for as much as he trusted the white council and Thranduil, he was still all too aware of the influence the Ring could, and would, wield. Most peculiarly, however, Bilbo seemed unaffected. Indeed, any lesser being would have shown their true colours when confronted, cursing and spitting insults while vanishing from sight at mere possibility of losing their now most precious possession. Yet he had not. Of course, Gandalf had kept a close eye on the little hobbit all this time. This was in part why he had accompanied him on his way home; the other part was, of course, that Mr. Baggins had proven to be excellent company. However, he would have never let any harm befall the hobbit, and if he would have shown any sign of corruption, then action on Gandalf’s part would have been instantaneous. Yet he had not. It was this that bewildered the wizard. Moreover, if the wizard had decided to alleviate the burden of his travel companion, he could not have done so. For Gandalf feared what the ring would have wrought upon him with its whispers and temptations, and what such immense power might do to his judgement. Even so, the ideal opportunity to destroy the abomination had passed. Only the dark, raging fires of Orodruin could vanquish such evil, the very place that created it. Mairon had been occupied in Dol Guldur and left Mordor weak, relying instead on outposts to protect his territory. But Gandalf had inadvertently driven Mairon back to Mordor, wherein he undoubtedly was gathering forces at this very moment. Mairon’s forces were almost guaranteed to discover any intrusions without any form of distraction, and the realm was too splintered to provide such support. The risk of the Ring falling into Mairon’s hands was too great. Taking into consideration that the ring’s desire to be found was great, Bilbo was as humble and careful of an owner as one could find. The murmurs of the Ring would be silenced, and the Shire was one of the unlikeliest places to find such power, as the hobbit himself had mentioned. Additionally, Gandalf could not be sure that the ring was the One. Magic rings were not as uncommon upon this earth as one might believe. Perhaps that was the reason for the hobbit’s odd resistance.  


 

All these thoughts had crossed the wizard’s mind, but what had not occurred to him was that during all this time he had only been staring intently at the hobbit, uttering not a word. Bilbo seemed to have become rather uncomfortable in the absence of the wizard's usually comforting words. The little hobbit constantly shifted his weight from one foot to the other on the narrow dirt road, and his air of confidence was no longer to be found.   
"Fine!" the little hobbit finally exclaimed, waking Gandalf from the depths of his mind. "Take it. Wear it, eat it, burn it, I don't care! Just don't scold me with those eyes of yours." Bilbo reached far into his pocket, pulled out the ring and let it lie upon his palm. Hesitant as Bilbo may have looked, Gandalf could tell that the gesture was pure. A booming laugh erupted from the wizard, and Gandalf knew that he would make the right choice.

"My dear little burglar, who would I be to deprive you of your spoils! I merely intended to get a better look at what secret you had: the secret you held so tightly, but could not even reveal to your oldest friend." Bilbo still had a confused look on his face. A warm smile passed the wizard's lips. "Oldest as in strictly age-related, of course." Bilbo let out a sigh of relief, and started laughing. "You really had me going there for a while! I thought my skin would fall off, the way you stared at me! You could have just asked, though. No need to be dramatic." Once more the wizard chuckled.   
"You would deny me my flair for the dramatic? That does not seem fair! Where else shall I find my enjoyment then?" Gandalf had lost many things during his life, yet his charm was not one of them. "And as a reward for giving me one of your secrets, in return you shall have one of mine." The wizard motioned for him to come close, leaned in and whispered in his ear. Narya’s warmth was felt upon Gandalf’s finger, the warmth of the Ring of Fire. The ring given to him by the Lord of the Grey Havens to help him bear the burden of the labours of Middle-Earth, with power to rekindle hearts and ignite souls. The words Gandalf had spoken traveled far, and nested deep within Bilbo’s heart. And such, a great fire now burned inside of the little hobbit, a fire that would guard him if the ring would try to make him give in to temptation, or to make him stray from his purehearted ways. However, the wizard could not know how long it would last, nor if it would even have an effect. Still, it was a precaution worth taking. Gandalf reclined with words still stirring in Bilbo’s mind.

“What sort of secret was that? It was incomprehensible!” the burglar asked.

“A secret for the ages, dear hobbit. All in due time.” Gandalf smirked, and started walking. With Bilbo in tow, the duo once again returned to the road. After a slight while, Bilbo started to inquire. “Where will you after this, then? Do you have plans, or a home to return to?”

“No such thing, I’m afraid.” the wizard replied. “Although I expect my visits to the Shire to be more frequent in the future. I already have plans for next year’s fireworks.”

“Oh. Of what will they be then? Perhaps of Bullroarer Took and the Battle of Greenfields? That is quite a story. It could even cause a resurgence in the sport of golf! I haven’t played a game in ages.”

“Oh, I very much doubt it. And as for the motif, that would be a secret I do not wish to reveal. But I think it will be enough to say that I’m fond of a very special tale involving a dragon and a hobbit.”


End file.
